Five And A Half Months
by beeeez
Summary: It's been the longest and most depressing five and a half months of his life...


_But you know it's alright_

_I came to my senses_

_Letting go of my defenses_

_There's no way I'm giving up this time_

All In - Lifehouse

It's been five and a half months.

Five and a half months since _"I'm officially breaking up with you". _Five and a half months since watching _her face _crumble and the realisation that he couldn't kiss her to make her feel better. Five and a half months since singing together, holding that connection that he never knew he actually _needed._ Five and a half months since he threw Puck into a wall and told him to _'fucking stop kissing my girlfriends!' _And the longest and most depressing five and a half months of his life.

He imagines everything to work out. It takes him four and a half months to actually realise that maybe, just maybe he was in the wrong too. It had been four and a half months of soul searching after all. It takes him five months before he wants to make it work, the two of them. But it takes him five and a half months before he realises that he was a _fucking _idiot, and she was a _fucking _idiot, and maybe they were meant to have this time apart. Because it's five and a half months in when he realises that he wants her to be _it._

It's not a spectacular epiphany, like in the movies. It's just a glance. One small glance as she belts out the final word to their number and he realises that he loves her, and that he has loved her all along, and that he cannot bear to be without her another second. It's Nationals, and it's been five and a half months, but as the crowd erupts into loud cheers that he can barely hear, he walks from the carefully formed line behind her, behind _their _star, and steps up next to her, his hand curling in hers. She is flushed, and she looks at him quickly, almost as if she is completely stunned by this. Her eyes move from their hands intertwined between them and his eyes and she smiles at him. And he swears he almost melts, because he has _missed _that smile, more than the making out, more than the one-time groping, more than her incessant nagging (which he found he actually missed during their five and a half months apart.)

She is smiling, and he can't help but smile back at her, his face erupting into a grin he barely even recognises. He becomes vaguely aware of his surroundings, and the fact that he is on stage, and it isn't until she tugs at his hand, pulling him away, following the rest of Glee Club before he realises what actually is happening. But they are in the in the dressing room and she turns around and stares up at him, her hands clasping his jacket as she smiles. He kisses her and _God,_ he suddenly remembers what she tasted like and how it felt to have his lips on hers, and he begins to kiss her harder before they are pulled away from each other by Kurt, who rolls his eyes and takes her by the hand, yanking them back up to the stage.

Everything is a blur, but all feels is her hand firmly clasped in his, and he knows they lost, they _lost, _because everyone looks shattered, but he finds himself grasping her hand harder and she responds, and suddenly losing doesn't matter.

It wasn't an epiphany, and it wasn't like lightening struck him, but he feels warmer, like the hole that was gaping in the middle of his chest had suddenly evaporated.

They were silent until they reached the hotel, leaving the others downstairs to wallow, and he pulls her into him and Puck's hotel room. He hears her giggle slightly and he closes the door and turns around, taking a moment to just stare at her. He swears the air _actually _leaves his lungs and her eyes are soft, her smile one of the most beautiful things he has ever seen in his life. She twists her fingers together, her eyes never leaving his and he takes a few steps forward, his hands going around her waist as his lips crush against hers.

She responds immediately, her arms wrapping around his neck to pull herself closer to him and he wraps his arm underneath her bottom, hoisting her up. She wraps her legs around his waist, her lips moving against his as his grip around her tightens. He backs her up to his bed and places her down, hovering above her, lips still attached to hers. He breaks away, and she moans softly from the sudden lack of contact, her fingers gripping his arms. He looks at her, laying beneath him, her hair splayed against the sheets, her lips swollen and her cheeks flushed pink.

"I love you," he says, and he knows his voice is cracking slightly. Her eyes glass over and her lips creep into a smile and suddenly he kisses her again, his tongue colliding with hers as he pushes himself closer to her.

He begins to feel completely and utterly dizzy, and he wonders if she feels the same way. As she curls her leg around his waist, pushing herself closer to him, he hopes to God that she does because he isn't sure that he has enough willpower to _stop. _His hands go to her thigh, settling there, right under her skirt. He expects her to break away and tell him _no, _that they had only _just _– he wasn't even sure what this was. To him this was it, he wasn't ever letting her go again. But she moans again and shifts her body so that he was now settling between her legs, the fabric of his pants and her underwear the only thing keeping them apart. He almost loses it, and he thinks he needs to stop, but she grips him tighter and he slides his hand further up her skirt, skimming the hem of her underwear and she makes this _noise _that is possibly the best thing he has ever heard in his life. He runs his fingers along the hem before slipping them underneath, stroking the smooth skin of her upper thigh. She jolts, arching into his touch and he breaks away from her, his fingers stilling.

"Finn…" she says softly, her voice breathless.

"I love you, and I don't want to rush you into…"

She presses her finger against his lips, her leg still curled around his waist. "I love you. I want this. I want you."

He takes a moment, and he is sure he has a dopey grin on his face but she beamed at him and pressed her lips on his hard, her fingers moving quickly against the button's of his collared shirt. She fumbles, still kissing him, and he moves his hand to help her, before he tosses it onto the floor. His hand goes back under her skirt and he grips her waist, feeling the soft cotton of her underwear and the smooth skin of her waist before he hooks his finger into the hem and pulls them down gently. She still has her dress on and she breaks away from kissing him to reach around and unzip the back of her dress, resting back down on the bed as he becomes increasingly aware that she has no bra on.

She has her fingers around his belt buckle and undoes them with such a speed that before he realises, she tugs his pants down and he slides out of them, kicking them off. She still has her dress on, even though it is open, and he slides his hand over her shoulder, down her collar and down her sides, taking the soft green fabric into his hands and gently tugs it down, revealing her underneath him completely naked. He can't help but stare, and it takes him a moment before he leans up and kisses her softly, his bare chest rubbing against hers and he knows he has never been so turned on in his life. The only thing between him and her was the fabric of his boxers, and he was so painfully hard that he almost feels like bursting.

Her lips are so soft, and he takes her bottom lip into his mouth, gently sucking on it as his free hand slides up her waist, to the smooth skin of her stomach, before he cups her breast in his large hand and runs his fingers over her hard nipple. She jerks underneath him, arching up and he does it again, feeling her body vibrate in his hands. She moans into his mouth, and flicks her nipple one last time before sliding his hands down further. She moves underneath him, arching up to where his hands were going and he almost smiles. His free hand grasps her waist, holding it down, before he moves it closer. He feels the heat coming from her centre and he teases her for a moment, not quite touching her, having his hand painfully close.

She groans again, but it is cut off as he gently runs his finger along her clit, feeling how wet she was and she makes _that noise _again, gripping the sheets of the bed. He watches her as he strokes her as his fingers swiftly move quicker and quicker and she jerks underneath him again, her face becoming flushed before he pushes a finger inside of her.

"_Nnnng…" _(He swears this noise will be the _death_ of him) and he watches her mouth drop open as he pumps his finger, in and out, and he feels her begin to clench around him, her chest glistening with sweat as she comes, arching into him.

He kisses her softly, and he feels her hands move to his shorts. She pulls them down, exposing him, and if it's possible, he feels himself become harder. Her fingers graze his length and he jerks, his eyes closing as she takes him into her hand and begins moving. She is slow, careful and gentle and the feel of her hand around him is the best feeling he is sure he has ever felt. Suddenly she stops, shifting herself and her legs so that he is settled between her.

"Do you …" she asks softly and he curses under his breath, remembering to breathe as he leans over and grabs his wallet and pulls out what he was looking for. He slides it on, and she watches him biting her lip. When he is ready, he position's himself as he watches her. She kisses him and he pushes inside of her gently. He feels her take a sharp breath against his lips and he almost wants to stop, but she thrusts herself against him, wanting him to continue.

He knows he isn't going to last very long, and he watches her as he slides in and out, watching her face, watching her movement. He feels her push into him deeper and he spirals over the edge, grasping her waist as he does so. He slowly pulls out of her and lies next to her, turning over slightly and disposing of the condom into the trash. He turns to face her, his eyes meeting hers and he watches as she smiles, her eyes glassing over.

"I missed you," she says softly, her hand resting on his chest.

"I missed you too," he replies, pulling her to him and tucking her head under his chin. She curls into his chest, her arm draping around his waist.

And he holds her.

It's five and a half months before Finn realises that Rachel is the love of his life, and even though he is seventeen and they have their whole lives ahead of them, he knows that she is _it. _They are it.

And suddenly the longest and most depressing five and a half months of his life seem worth it.


End file.
